Duct Tape

Ah, sweet, sweet Halle. When my husband suggested I should have a "blog" my first thought was, what the heck is a blog. After he showed me his "blog" my next thought was, what the heck would I write on one. Silly, silly me. Each and every day my children manage to give me more than I could ever begin to write about due simply to time constraints.

Today as Halle, Emma, Cooper and I are driving along to the doctor's office we are happily singing to "I've Been Working On The Railroad" having a grand 'ole time. We had stopped at McDonald's for breakfast to eat in the car on the way to take Madison to school. (Marshall had a play date, thus his absence from this story.) The kids all had their usual pancakes. The twins never really eat much, it's just fun for them to pick at their pancakes and throw the rest on the floor of my ever disgusting van. So when Halle starts saying, "here Mommy, all done," I merely say, "yes, honey. I'll get it when we get to the doctors office." Not ten seconds later, to my utter shock and horror, Halle is standing next to me (as I'm driving 35 miles an hour down a busy road) handing me her mutilated pancakes. I just about ran off the road because first of all she scared the heck out of me, and second, I'm straining my neck to see how she managed to get out of her carseat. Needless to say I pull over at the first parking lot I could find and buckled her safely back in her car seat. Maybe next time I should just use duct tape.